


The Pirate's Song

by FayeWildwood



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Deaf Character, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, I'll tag more later - Freeform, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content later on, Sirens, The Rogues (DCU) As Family, i have no idea how to tag this, mute character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:44:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeWildwood/pseuds/FayeWildwood
Summary: Captain Leonard Snart- or Captain Cold as he's known on the Central Seas- is renowned for his small crew and his infamous ship, the Rogue's Gallery. He steals and pillages all throughout the Gem Cities and their waters, taking what he wants and having no mercy for those standing in his way. He loves treasure, his sister, and things worth more than money could buy.And he just so happens upon one of the most valuable things in the world- a Siren.ORThe pirate/siren AU nobody asked for.





	1. The Caged Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So I really don't know when to quit when it comes to ColdFlash fiction, but I just get all these ideas and I have to go with it. So here's my new story! Like the rest of them, I'll be updating when I get the inspiration and the need. But please remember that I do bounce between stories so if I don't update extremely quickly, that's why. Anyway, enjoy!

"Filthy pirates," Captain Hunter spat, glaring up at the group of men and women that stood before him. He was the last of his crew, the rest murdered upon boarding, but the infamous captain of the Rogue's Gallery liked to... dispose of other captains himself, got some sort of satisfaction of it.

The Rogues Gallery was the fastest Pirate ship in the Central Sea and surrounding waters, with a crew half the size of normal ships and yet still more effective. They were vicious, known to care more about the fun of pirating and the treasure they gained than a person's life. Granted, they _were_ pirates, and most didn't care about anyone's life but this captain... he held no mercy for those who crossed him.

Captain Cold some called him.

Others just called him by his name: Captain Leonard Snart. He didn't look like much in his frosted blue captain's coat, the neck and hem lined with grey-white fur as they often traveled up north for business. He kept his silver hair cut so close to his head he almost looked bald, and his face looked to be etched in stone with how close he kept his emotions, his thoughts. But it was his eyes that drew attention, the beautiful blue that almost looked steel grey in the right light. They were piercing, deadly, and often the last thing people saw if he caught you.

The man smirked, crouching down so he was at eye level with Hunter Zoloman, a rival pirate that Cold had been hunting for a while. He'd been getting rumors, whispers in his ears about Zoloman being a better pirate, a more ruthless one, and Cold hated being second best.

"Now now, Hunter," Cold drawled, tapping the barrel of his flintlock on the man's chin. "We keep ourselves very clean on my ship. My dearest sister demands it. Now, I'm a nice guy," he said a bit sarcastically, smirking at the man. "I'm going to give you a choice because my partner here gets antsy when I don't let him have any fun." His partner being the massive bulk of muscle that served as an ever present shadow to the captain, his first mate: Mick Rory. The man was bald, dirty, and angry most of the time and had ugly burn scars all up and down his arms. He was more terrifying than Cold to those who didn't know them. "So here are your choices. One, I can shoot you know. Or two, you can die by fire and go down with your precious ship."

Cold watched the other captain carefully. 

Zoloman was well known for being speedy, twitchy almost, but there was something about the way he was acting now that had Cold's attention. He was tense, of course, but his eyes never stayed in the same spot, flickering between Cold's face and his ship just next to them. "My ship," was his answer, pulling a deadly grin from Mick, but surprisingly it didn't seem to bother him, he just nodded quickly and nodded his head to it. "I'll go down with my ship."

"Now isn't that interesting," Cold drawled, frowning at the captain. They'd already pulled all the treasure they'd found off the man's ship- and it was quite the haul. They'd be sitting pretty for a while if they so choose... but something had Cold standing and turning to his partner. "Mick, you can have him, but-" he held up a gloved hand, stopping his friend from stepping further and earning him a confused glare. "Check the ship again," Hunter's eyes met Cold's and widened just enough for the other to know that he _was_  hiding something else on the ship, something even more valuable than the treasure they'd already taken. "He's hiding something over there."

It took nearly twenty minutes before Hartley- one of the younger crewmen- came sprinting to the edge of Hunter's deck, leaning over to yell at Cold. "Captain! You're going to wanna see this!"

Now normally Cold would let everyone else just bring the treasure to him, but he found himself leaving the ship with his sister Lisa and trudging through the decks of The Speedster, following behind a rather nervous looking Hartley. _Interesting_. He wondered if whatever Hunter had been hiding was just too big to carry alone, or if it was something important but Mick wasn't sure if it was worth it. Mick wasn't dumb by any account, but he didn't have an eye for things like art and design like Cold did. Still, the captain couldn't possibly have any idea of what it would be that Hunter was hiding. They came to the captain's quarters and stopped, Hartley fidgeting a bit and waving to the door. "Mick's inside. He uh... it's... I've never seen one in person before!"

Well that was even more interesting because Hartley came from a rich family before joining up with him, a very rich family from one of the Gem cities. He knew value like the back of his hand, almost as well as Cold did. If something like this made him nervous because he'd never actually seen one in real life? Well colour him interested.

Cold pushed the door open easily, taking in the gaudy room that just screamed Zolomon. Mick was standing beside a four poster bed, the curtains drawn back but it was empty. Honestly, nothing in the room really caught his eye as overly valuable- nothing they hadn't taken already, so he raised an eyebrow at his partner and frowned. If he'd come all the way over here only for nothing to-

"Don't get yer knickers in a twist, Len," Mick grunted, rolling his eyes and gesturing towards what looked like a covered bird cage, standing at about half his height. "It's in there."

"Don't tell me it's some sort of animal," Cold growled, though he took slow and careful steps towards it. "I hate animals."

Mick shrugged, his face completely void of interest, which told him it was either not valuable at all, or not valuable to _him_. "Depends on your definition of animal, s'pose," he replied.

Well that peaked his interest again and Cold stepped close enough to grab the cloth draped over the cage. With a dramatic flourish that had Mick snorting behind him, he pulled it off- and nearly tripped on his own feet at what greeted him underneath it.

It was a boy.

Or a young man at least. He was much younger than Cold by the looks of it, but he couldn't tell if he was younger than Hartley. He sat cross legged at the floor of the cage, a golden cloth draped around his chest and pure white trousers covering his legs. His shaggy brown hair was unkempt and beautiful hazel eyes stared up at Cold with a mix of fear and uncertainty. It was the boy's throat that drew the pirate's attention however because he knew exactly what it meant. Shimmering golden runes were etched into the skin of the boy's neck, circling around like a collar and glowing in the dim lantern light. They were absolutely beautiful and though Cold couldn't read the runes, he knew what they meant to an extent. He looked closer, kneeling down to be eye level with the boy, and could see the same designs circling both wrists and both ankles.

Too many emotions fluttered through Cold's chest: anger, interest, awe, fascination, curiosity, greed, anger again. The boy's skin was flawless from what he could see, so he could guess Zolomon didn't abuse him physically, or least didn't leave any visible scars in his wake. And yet... there was a fear in those hazel eyes that struck a chord in the pirate's heart. It looked much too familiar for his comfort.

"You got that look in yer eye," Mick frowned behind him. "Kid worth somethin'? You don' usually like slaves."

"Oh, he's not a slave," Cold breathed, barely stopping himself from reaching out to touch the boy. "Not in the traditional sense. I've never actually seen his kind in person before." The boy blinked, shrinking back a bit but it was clear he was trying to stay as still as possible. 

Mick grunted in confusion. "His kind?"

"He's a siren," Cold said knowingly, noting the small flinch from the boy at the name. "Long thought to be myths but on a very rare occasion, some fishermen have found them. They are highly sought after by noblemen, royalty... they run at quite the price if you happen to get your hands on one." There was a long silence before Cold made a decision, turning his head slightly to see his partner out of the corner of his eye. "Do what you want with Zolomon. I'll figure out what to do with the kid."

"You stayin' here?"

Cold nodded. "For now. I promise I'll let you burn the thing into the water when I'm done."

That was enough for Mick because he quickly made his way out of the room, dragging a wide eyed Hartley behind him and slamming the door. When cold turned back to the kid, it was clear he was trying not to shake, but the draft from the open windows and the fear coursing through him must have been making it hard because his hands were shivering in his lap. Cold grunted and shifted to sit in a similar fashion, his joints creaking at the movements. He reached out towards the door, only to have the kid visibly flinch back again.

"Calm down, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just going to open the door so we can have a nice little chat, okay?" Hazel eyes met blue and the pirate had the uneasy feeling he was being judged- probably was- before the boy nodded. It was small, just barely a tilt of the chin, but when Cold reached toward the door again and pulled it open, the siren didn't flinch. "Great. Now, what's going to happen is I'm going to introduce myself, tell you your options, and you're going to make a choice, yeah?" Another slight nod, his eyebrows pulling down a bit in confusion. "Good. The name is Captain Leonard Snart, people call me Cold. You got a name?" He recieved no answer, the kid only biting his lip as if to hold back what he might have wanted to say. Cold shrugged and leaned his elbows on his knees. He didn't need the kid's name anyway. "Fair enough. Listen, you've got a few options. I can leave you here, but the ship's going to be burnt to a crisp the second I leave it-" brown hair fluttered as the siren shook his head, swallowing thickly. His adam's apple bobbed, drawing Cold's attention once again to the marks around his throat. "Good choice. Then you've got two other options left. One, I could drop you off at the nearest port and let you fend for yourself. I've got some contacts around if you need work, but honestly, I wouldn't recommend it." Confusion filled the boy's eyes and Cold shrugged a shoulder. "You want the run down kid? You step foot on land, or anyone else's ship, and you'll be snatched up faster than you could let out a note. Someone's going to spot those pretty runes and know exactly what you are, shackle you up or cage you again, and sell you to the highest bidder. It's unlikely they'd be any nice than Zolomon's been."

A shiver ran through the boy and his fists clenched in his lap. Cold could see the question in his eyes even if he didn't voice it. _And my last option?_

"Or, you could stay with me." The siren frowned, head tilting slightly. "I have no use for a slave though, nor do I much care for them. So you come on my ship and you work. If you aren't sure what to do, we'll find something you're good at. I've got a nice little crew of misfits around so you'd fit right in. You'd get my protection, you'd get a bed to sleep in, and you'll have as much freedom as the open seas will allow." He could still see the uncertainty in the kid's eyes, the way he leaned away from Cold just a tad- waiting for some condition he wasn't going to like. But Cold had none. "There's no 'but' coming, kid. I'm not going to lie to you, you're worth a lot of money, and I mean _a lot_. I like money, but I like _worth_  more. While you wouldn't be a prisoner- I'd let you leave if that's what you wanted- you'd be worth a lot more to me on my ship than being sold to whoever would give me the most coin. So, what's it gonna be?"

The boy remained silent, but after a while of him ticking his head to the side, just staring at the captain, he shifted to his hands and knees. It took a moment for Cold to really register what he was doing as he shuffled forward a bit, pausing at the opening to the cage, but he finally got the picture and grunted. The kid wanted _out._  He scooted back on his butt a tad before pulling himself to his feet, holding a hand out to the kid as well.

The siren stared at it for too long before putting his pale hand in Cold's. It was freezing, and still a little shaky, as he was pulled to his feet, and the pirate was surprised to see that he was actually pretty tall, almost as tall as Cold. He was skinny, almost too skinny to be honest, but with Mick's cooking, that could be fixed quickly. He also noticed the kid had no shoes on- that'd need to be fixed as well.

He didn't head for the door though, instead circling around Cold towards a desk that was pushed against one of the cabin walls. He shuffled through it for a few seconds before he found what he  needed- a quill and parchment. Cold waited patiently as the boy scribbled across it, blinking a bit when the parchment was shoved under his nose.

_'I can cook and fix things.'_

The handwriting was a bit scratchy, though he suspected that was more due to the siren's shaking hands than bad penmanship, and Cold raised an eyebrow. "You can fix things?"

The siren nodded, shrugging a bit before turning to write on the paper again. ' _I'm good with my hands. Captain Zolomon's men brought me clothes to mend and weapons to fix often.'_  Cold opened his mouth to reply, but before he could the paper was gone again and the kid was leaning over the desk once more. And once more, he waited patiently, curious as to why the boy felt the need to write everything down, or he had to. ' _My name is Bartholomew.'_

"Bartholomew?" Cold said out loud, trying and failing not to snort. The small pout and scarlet blush that spread across the boy's face however was down right delectable. "That's worse than Leonard. How about we call you Barry, that suit you fine?" The siren's head tilted a bit, contemplating the question with a surprisingly serious expression before a shy smile crossed his lips and he nodded. "Good, Barry then. There a reason you're not talking?"

Barry blushed again- a look on him that Cold could start getting used to- and tapped the marks on his throat as if that would give Cold the answer. It didn't, and he must have seen the confusion on Cold's face because he turned and wrote the answer down quickly.

_'I'm a siren. We do not speak your words, these marks keep us silent until we sing.'_

"Hmm, alright Barry. Welcome to the Rogue's Gallery."


	2. Unexpected Offers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold brings Barry back onto his own ship and introduces him to the crew and Lisa. He also gets a small peak into the life Barry's been leading so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the great reviews!  
> Quick warning, this chapter does have mentions of past rape and dubious consent. Please be aware of that going forward. Thanks :)

It took almost twenty minutes to get Barry into the frosted blue coat he was offering the kid, but when he finally did, he zipped it all the way up so the fur around the edges hid his 'voice' as the kid called it. It was almost comically big on the boy since he was so skinny, but Cold could tell the instant Barry gave in because his shivering almost stopped immediately at the warmth the coat brought him. He hunched in it a bit, letting the fur tickle his nose and a small, shy, smile came to his lips.

"Alright, we better head back over before Mick burns the place down with me in it," Cold said, a seriousness in his voice that had Barry wondering if it'd happened before. He followed behind the mysterious captain very closely, nearly bumping into him a few times when the man slowed to get around obstacles or look at something pretty- as if to decide if it were worthy enough to steal. Then his eyes would land on Barry again and he'd get this... contemplative look in his ice blue eyes and a triumphant smirk on his lips, before continuing their journey. Honestly, Barry wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

The man was kinder than Zolomon so far, didn't see the need to lie to him about his intentions... at least Barry didn't think he was lying. He didn't have Barry in chains or have conditions to be met. 

It might have been his naivete when it came to humans, but Barry almost felt safe with the man- much safer than with Zolomon at least. But the moment they stepped onto Cold's ship, that fear and anxiety skyrocketed and Barry found himself clutching at the back of his new captain's tunic before he could think better of the action. He hid himself behind the man, ducking his head and trying not to draw attention to himself- even though that was inevitable he knew.

The crew was a lot smaller than the Speedster's crew, even had a few women on it, but Barry had heard whispers of how ruthless they could be. Suddenly it didn't seem like such a good idea to have taken Cold up on his offer.

"Lenny-dear, did you pick up a stray?" a woman in a beautiful golden coat questioned, slinking up towards them and leaning around the captain to take a look at Barry. She was beautiful, with curly brown hair and eyes so similar to Cold's he would swear they were related. Beads and braids decorated her hair and jewels of all sorts covered her wrists and fingers, and though her smile was charming, he could see the con behind it. She was used to getting men to do whatever she wanted with that smile, he was sure. "Oh isn't he a cutie," she cooed, raising a hand towards Barry's hair but when he flinched, she paused, her sweet eyes hardening instantly.

Barry was quick to straighten, mouth open to apologize for whatever he did wrong before remembering he couldn't. He should have let her touch him, should have let her- tears prickled at the back of his eyes and his fingers clenched into tighter fists around Cold's shirt. Would he let Barry still stay after angering this woman? Would he kick barry off the ship?

"Hey, hey, breathe darling, you're alright," the woman said, her voice sweet even if her eyes were angry. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm sorry."

The boy sucked in a breath, not having realized he'd stopped breathing at all, and frowned up at her. She was sorry? He didn't understand. What did she have to be sorry for? It was Barry's fault, he was the one who angered her, who flinched when he was supposed to stay still. Zolomon hated it when Barry moved when he wasn't supposed to, Barry was the one who was supposed to be apologizing.

"Back off, Lise, give the kid some room," Cold ordered and the woman took a careful step back. "Listen up, the kid's coming with us, joining the crew. Same rules apply as always with new members, but this one's a little different." Barry flinched at the meaning behind those words but didn't move into view just yet. "Barry here can't talk, so you need a question answered or something, you've gotta find a way to get it. Hart," Barry could feel Cold moving then, lifting his arms and waving them around in front of him as he spoke. It was unfamiliar to Barry, and strange, but when he glanced over Cold's shoulder, he could see the boy from earlier watching him like a hawk. "I want you to try and teach him to sign, it'll help a lot if he has a better way of communicating than writing. Got it?" Various members of the crew nodded, though some were still skeptical and with his clear view now, Barry wondered where the big man had taken Zolomon as he didn't see either on the deck of the ship. "Good. You are all to remember that he's not a slave anymore, he's part of this crew. I expect you to treat him like it. Lise-"

Cold didn't wait for any responses as he started heading toward the door that Barry assumed led to the captain's chambers. Of course... he'd be staying there with Cold no doubt. His heart sank just a bit at the thought of being caged again, but he had made the decision to come here with the man... and Cold did say he wasn't a slave any more...

The woman- Lise?- followed them quietly until they were closed off in what could only be Cold's room. 

It was filled with beautiful paintings and statues, artfully decorated and not overly gaudy like Zolomon's had been. It was obvious the man valued expensive things, but still had taste enough to decorate nicely. And- Barry noticed rather quickly- there was no cage for him.

"You've got a look in your eye, Lenny. Never figured you'd get so greedy over a kid. What's going on?"

"He's not just a kid, Lisa," Cold said, gesturing towards Barry like he was expecting something. Barry's head ticked to the side a bit in confusion before realization dawned on him. Oh of course- he stripped the jacket off quickly and handed it to the man, letting his marks show to the woman. He knew this act. Zolomon loved showing him off, loved telling people that he had a siren. So Barry kept his chin up and stared at the wall opposing him, not daring to move as the woman stared. 

"Is that-"

Cold nodded. "He's a siren. You, Mick and Hartley are the only ones who know and I want to keep it that way," the man ordered, causing Lisa to raise an eyebrow. "I don't completely trust Mardon yet and Shawna is a flake on the best of days. Axel wouldn't betray me, but he's got a mouth bigger than his head when he's not thinking. He'd spill the beans without realizing he did it."

Lisa nodded, taking a step closer to Barry and again he remained perfectly still. "And you don't want them knowing because?"

"Like I said, the kid's not a slave here. I told him he had my protection and he does. The others find out what he is, how much he's worth, and he's as good as sold." Cold shrugged, leaning back against a desk behind him. "I want you to get a room ready, something closer to ours so I can keep an eye out. We'll figure out what Barry can do for work later. Right now I want to get us as far away from the Speedster as we can. Mick's about to set it ablaze and I don't want to be anywhere near it."

Lisa glanced back at the captain before nodding. "Okay, I'll try and find some more clothes for him too. Some that aren't so... gaudy," she said with a grimace, turning to Barry then. "I love gold darling, don't get me wrong... but this is too- hmm roman for me." She raised her hand again- slowly this time- to run through Barry's hair and when he didn't flinch at the touch, her eyes turned sad this time instead of angry.

He couldn't understand why. Why would she be sad that he was following orders, that he didn't flinch? Should that have been the right thing to do? The thing to make her happy? Uncertainty churned in his stomach as Lisa turned and left the room, leaving only him and the captain.

"You can relax, kid. My sister isn't going to hurt you. Jeez, you look like you swallowed a grape."

_Sister_ , that explained the similarities in their eyes. It didn't necessarily calm him though. If he angered or hurt the man's sister, surely he'd be angry, surely Barry would have to make up for it somehow. Zolomon had always preferred Barry to be the good little bird, sit there and do as he was told, but that only seemed to be what made Lisa unhappy with him. Briefly Barry wondered if he could make up for it the way he did with Eobard, though the thought nearly made him sick just thinking about it.

Still... he couldn't risk getting thrown off the ship if what Cold said was true and he'd just be caged again. He was sure no one would let him back in the water, even if he asked, and he doubted he could escape fast enough. Cold though, he seemed kind enough. If Barry could keep him happy, do what he was told, maybe he _would_  be safe on the Rogue's Gallery.

His mind made up, Barry took a few tentative steps toward the captain, swallowing thickly as nerves bundled up in his stomach. The man was attractive, he wouldn't deny it. Cold was probably one of the most beautiful men he'd ever seen, so really it wouldn't be that difficult to please him if he just pretended he wanted it.

The captain's eyebrows raised as Barry drew closer, his arms crossed over his chest and head tilted slightly as he watched Barry. Eobard used to do the same thing, pretend to be uninterested or bored until he had Barry within arms reach. The second Barry had his hands reaching towards the hem of Cold's shirt though, those blue eyes hardened and the man had his fingers wrapped around Barry's wrists to stop him. "What the hell d'you think you're doin' kid?"

Barry jolted, freezing on instinct and not daring to move. He'd been wrong again, made the captain angry this time. Why couldn't he do anything right? What did they want from him? Though Cold had said he expected Barry to work for his protection, he didn't seem to want what Barry thought he would. Which was strange. Did Cold _actually_ want Barry to cook and mend things? Surely not.

The siren hadn't realized he'd started to shake until Cold's fingers relaxed around his wrists and let go. Barry pulled his hands to his chest, rubbing at the sore spots but not willing to move anymore.

Cold was watching him, waiting for an explanation that never came and he huffed. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Dammit kid... will you just relax? I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not-" he gestured to Barry as if it explained anything. " _That's_  not why you're here, okay?"

Barry's frown must have told the man something because a moment later a notebook and pen was stuck under his nose. "Words, Barry. Use them."

His hands were still shaky as he took the book from the captain and wrote down his answer.

' _I angered Miss Lisa.'_

The captain frowned at that, eyebrows pinching together. "Lisa? You didn't anger her, if anything she already loves you. Lise has a habit of adoring little broken things she can try and piece back together. Why do you think you angered her?"

' _I flinched and she looked mad, but when I didn't flinch, she was sad,'_  Barry wrote hesitantly, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

Realization dawned on the older man's face and Cold sighed, leaning his butt against the desk again. "That wasn't you, kid. She was mad at Hunter, not you. Lise and I- we didn't grow up well. She used to have a habit of flinching whenever someone reached for her too." Barry's eyes widened a bit, thinking back to the strong and sure woman he had seen only moments before. It was hard to imagine her flinching at anything. "She was mad that Hunter's the reason you don't like someone touching you."

It was Barry's turn to frown as he shook his head. _'Zolomon never touched me.'_

"But someone did." It wasn't a question, but Barry blushed and nodded a bit. "You were all to ready to... please me. It's not that hard to connect the dots." Barry looked down at his feet, fingers clutching the paper in his hands and shame roiling through him. "Barry," Cold said slowly, reaching a hand out to lift Barry's chin slightly. He didn't flinch, but it was a moment before his eyes connected with the captain's. "Listen to me. You're not a prisoner here and you're not a slave. I'm not going to expect you to... please me, and neither is anyone else on this ship, okay?" Barry frowned but found himself nodding anyway. "You don't have to do anything like that again unless you want to, okay? I don't allow that kind of thing on my ship without consent."

' _Then why am I here?'_  Barry asked.

"You don't have to be," Cold said carefully, letting go of Barry's face to lean back again. "But you've got a place here if you want it. Mick always needs extra help in the kitchens and Shawna can sew up people, but not clothes. Hartley's the only one who's any good at fixing our weapons. Having an extra hand around would be nice, but you don't have to... pay it back or anything like that. You've got a place here if you need it."

It was hard to believe, a little strange... but Barry smiled and nodded, wondering if maybe he would be able to call this place home.


	3. Granting Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has an accident in the kitchen and Captain Cold delves even deeper into the kid's issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a tad shorter than the others, but just as angst filled. Past abuse warnings here, forced starvation, etc. Be warned.

Barry had been on the ship for three days now, seemingly settling in pretty well. He'd been unsure of Lisa giving him clothes and a room of his own, but all in all Cold thought he was adjusting pretty well. He'd been given a little travel notebook and pencil so he could write when someone needed to speak with him, and spent most of the time in the kitchens with Mick.

It seemed to be the perfect place for him too. Mick had a short temper, hated letting people in his kitchen because they got in the way or did something wrong, but Barry was already used to following orders and making himself scarce- as much as that fact hurt Cold to think about. And since he couldn't speak, he didn't annoy Mick with incessant babbling like Axel or Mardon did. Mick had even complimented the kid on plenty of occasions and bragged to Cold about him when they were in private- something Mick rarely did. It was hard to get on his second's good graces so quickly, but Barry seemed to do it effortlessly.

In fact everyone on the ship- except for Mardon- seemed enamored with the kid. Cold and Lisa made sure he had clothes that covered his marks so no one else knew what he was, but it didn't seem to matter because the rest of the crew absolutely adored him. He spent a lot of time helping Shawna mend clothes that had been torn during fights, or he helped Hartley clean the guns. Hartley had also managed to start teaching him basic sign language, and while the kid was a fast learner and used it confidently with the crewmember, he rarely used it with others, not confident enough in the skill yet.

Still there was something about the kid recently that had the captain keeping a close eye on him. He never joined them for meals, much to Lisa's chagrin, and on the third day he'd started stumbling around like the waves were affecting him more than usual. His eyes were dull and the bags under his eyes were enough to make Cold worry. But his rogues had an unspoken agreement among them- if they needed help, they'd come find it, so Cold didn't think too far into the boy's strange behavior.

Until he started hearing shouts coming from the kitchen.

He and Lisa- who were busy cataloging their stolen treasure- made it down there in mere seconds, only to find Mick the only one in the room. He was fuming, anger licking across his skin like flames, but by the way he was hitting his hand on the side of his head, it was more at himself than anything else. The kitchen wasn't in any sort of disarray from first glance, but upon further inspection, Cold could see the shattered plate at Mick's feet and the few drops of blood that stained the white ceramic.

Lisa took Mick's hand gently in hers, pulling it away from the man's temple and his foggy eyes cleared a bit when they met hers. "Mick, sweetie, what happened?"

"Scared the kid," he grumbled softly, something he wouldn't have done if anyone else was in the room with them. A few moments later, his eyes cleared completely and he frowned, blinking at them. "Didn't mean to. Flame kicked too high and caught my sleeve," he said, raising an arm to show the burnt skin and material. It didn't look to be bothering the man, but then again most of the scarred tissue on his arms had little to no nerves anymore so Cold doubted he even felt it. "I didn't even notice till the kid freaked out. Started pullin' and tuggin' on me, but I was busy tryin' to make sure not t' burn my fish. Snapped at him." Mick's eyes turned a little shameful but the expression was gone quickly as he looked up at Cold. "Kid knocked over the plate when I turned on him, started flustering about like- I don't know. He was probably apologizing but he wouldn't stop shakin'. Tried to pick up the plate but I told him to leave it, he'd hurt himself if he tried. Told 'im I'd get it later and he just-" Mick waved to the back door of the kitchen that led towards the storage area, frown etched into his face. "Kid ran off."

"Alright, Lise," the captain turned to his sister and nodded towards the other door. "Go get Shawna to look at Mick's arm. I'll get the kid."

The kitchen storage rooms were dark, musty, and smelled of too many spices. Cold avoided them when he could because too many smells in too small a space gave him a headache he couldn't fight back. But, even with how crowded the room was, it was small so it wasn't too hard to find Barry in the mess. 

He'd curled himself up in a tiny ball between some crates of salted meat and fruits, arms wrapped around his legs and arms buried in his knees. He was shaking, making soft little sniffling noises and there was a small trickle of blood sliding down his arm.

Cold was quiet as he knelt down in front of the kid, making just enough noise so Barry knew he was there, but not enough to scare the boy. He waited patiently, his body aching from the awkward position and his head already starting to pound from the onslaught of smells, but he didn't move. "Barry," he pressed, frowning when the kid flinched. "You aren't in trouble, kid. Mick didn't mean to scare you. You did a good thing trying to help. The siren didn't move though, other than the almost violent shaking his body had taken to doing- though Cold couldn't tell if it was due to the chill in the air or the fear. "Something's wrong here, kid. I can tell. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

He knew he was right by the way Barry tensed, his entire body seizing up like he was expecting someone to strike him. After a moment, hazel eyes popped over his knees and he looked at Cold in a strange mix of emotions- confusion, uncertainty, fear. Cold heard him swallow and he held out a shaky hand, palm flat and facing up so the captain could see the gash in the center from trying to pick up the plate.

Cold took the hand gently, pulling the cleanest cloth he could from his pocket and wrapping it around the hand. "We'll get Shawna to clean you up and fix your hand, but that wasn't what I meant. You're not lookin' too great there, Barry."

Barry flushed that lovely red colour and swallowed thick again, fingers shaking a bit as he brought his hand up and touched the tips of his fingers to his lips, a sign Hartley had taught them all early on. (As all members of the crew were to learn Sign upon joining, even if they weren't fluent in it yet.)

"Hungry? You weren't at breakfast, have you eaten at all today?" the captain questioned with a frown. He had assumed even though Barry didn't join them for meals that he just ate while he was in the kitchens, though knowing Mick, he might not allow that. Barry shook his head, eyebrows pulling down slightly as he bit his lip. There was more to that answer, something he wasn't telling him and Cold felt a chill run through him again. "Have you eaten at all since you've been here?"

The hardness in his voice made the boy flinch again, but judging by the way his eyes went downcast and his breathing picked up, Cold had no doubt he was right.

"Shit kid, you can't just- you know you're invited to meals right? And has Mick not been giving you food in the kitchens?" Barry didn't really answer so much as he just shrugged, his shoulders going back to their shaking. Cold ran a hand over his cropped hair and sighed. "I need you to communicate with me here, Barry, or we're never going to get anywhere. Why haven't you eaten? I need you to be honest here, I promise you're not in trouble." The boy dug his face back into his knees and Cold found himself getting increasingly frustrated- not at the kid, but at whoever had fucked him up enough that he was scared of any sort of punishment now. "Are you allergic to anything? Just don't like fish? We can get you something else if needed. We're stopping at a port in a day or two, but you have to eat something."

Finally, _finally_ , the kid peaked up at him, blinking a bit owlishly like Cold had just granted him permission or something. He was about to ask if he'd asked the right questions, if he really was allergic to something but he was cut off by the notepad that was thrust under his nose. 

_'I can eat something?'_

"What? Of course you can-" Cold froze, reading over the words again to make sure he'd read them correctly. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach and his face fell into an emotionless mask. Those words were all too familiar and Cold hated that they even needed to be asked. "Barry, did you think you needed permission to eat?" The siren blushed, a mix between a frown and a pout on his lips as if he wasn't sure if he was in the wrong or Cold was. It gave him his answer though and Cold could only hope Mick gave Hunter a long and painful death. "Listen to me, Barry, and listen to me good, alright?" he waited until the boy nodded, even if he did shrink back a bit at Cold's tone. "You eat with the rest of us, like a member of my crew, because you are a member of my crew. If you need food, you go get it, or at least ask Mick for some. I don't know what Hunter had going on, but I'm not him, okay? You can't let yourself starve."

There was genuine surprise in the kid's eyes and he reached for the notebook again. ' _I've made you angry.'_

Cold scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm pissed, Scarlet," he growled, the nickname coming out of nowhere. "But not at you. I'm pissed that I let Mick dispose of Hunter before I got a chance with him. I'm pissed that he... did whatever he did to fuck you up so much. I'm pissed that you think food is a reward instead of a basic human right. But I'm not pissed at _you_ , okay?"

Hazel eyes blinked at him and the kid nodded hesitantly.

"Good. New rule though, if there's something wrong, you tell me. Okay? If you think you've made someone mad, if there's something you don't think you're allowed to do, you talk to me first," the pirate ordered, as quietly and softly as he could with the anger coursing through his veins. "You want anything, you ask, okay?"

Barry opened his mouth to reply only to catch himself before doing so, his lips instead spreading into a small, shy smile. He nodded and after a few more seconds he'd stopped shaking. Cold rubbed a hand over his eyes again, his headache pulsing behind them now, and forced himself not to jump when he felt a hesitant hand on his arm. When he dropped his hand and looked down at the siren, the boy had one palm flat towards him, his other hand curled into a fist with his thumb sticking out, and resting on the open palm. "Help?" Cold asked, earning a nod from Barry before the boy held up his bandaged hand. He chuckled at the innocence in the boy's eyes and nodded. "Alright, yeah, let's get you out to Shawna, okay?"

Shawna was rightfully pissed that Cold hadn't brought Barry to her right away, but she kept her anger mostly at bay as she cleaned and re-wrapped Barry's hand. The wound wasn't deep enough to have needed stitches, but she made sure to tell the boy that he had to be careful with it for the next few days and keep it clean. So no helping Hartley with the guns until it was healed. Meanwhile, Cold stood off to the side with Mick, both in view of the kid, with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched tight.

"What's up, boss?"

"Tell me he died painfully," Cold ordered.

There was a brief silence as Mick watched him, then turned to the kid. Barry wasn't paying either of them any mind, instead learning from Hartley how to sign 'thank you', 'hurt', and 'please'. "You're getting sweet on the kid." It wasn't a question, but Cold tensed anyway, glaring at his partner out of the corner of his eye. "Calm down, I ain't judgin'. Just an observation."

"Well keep your observations to yourself, Mick," the captain hissed. "Answer my question."

Mick snorted and a wicked grin spread over his face like a child with a new toy. "Oh, _extremely_."


	4. The Pirates Old Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold and his crew stop at their home port to visit the old ball and chains. Barry gets a check up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter moves a bit quickly, but mostly because I wanted to put so much information in it without it being ungodly long! So, hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks for reading and all your amazing comments!

Central City was the busiest port town this side of the continent, the third of the Gem cities and well known for it too. Which meant there was one thing there that Cold found himself loving and hating with equal amounts of emotion: crowds. On the one hand, crowds made it extremely easy to pocket things that didn't belong to him. No one paid enough attention and they carefully didn't dress like the pirates they were when on land. On the other hand, he hated being touched without his permission and had early on learned how to avoid it in crowds- turn just the right way, duck under that arm, make a quick dodge around that elbow. It was easy enough, but Central made it difficult because the crowds were _thick_  with people and he had a half terrified siren attached to his arm like a leach.

Barry had been doing much better since the incidents with the kitchen a few days ago. He'd apologized to Mick and Mick apologized back- well, he cooked the kid the biggest meal he could, and in Mick's terms, it was as good of an apology as Barry was going to get. He was looking healthier, though there were still bags under his eyes that never seemed to go away, and he was still incredibly jittery around people he didn't know, never quite sure how to act or what to do.

So Cold had decided to take him with them on their trip inland. He had business to attend to, Mick and Lisa had the old ball and chains to visit, and judging by the way Barry had been eyeing his small collection of books the day before, he was sure the boy would find great interest in the Well's Library.

Mick led the four of them through the streets, his massive bulk being enough to give them a small birth between people. Lisa remained between the men, always in Cold's sight. The trip to the center of town was... irritating to say the least, but the crowds always thinned the closer they drew to Star University, especially near the private offices and labs. Barry's eyes were wide with awe when Cold glanced down at him, taking in every bit of architecture and information he could. It was pretty adorable and Cold almost found himself smiling. Almost.

The private library and labs of Harrison Wells was a familiar sight to Cold as they stepped into it, and the silence was a welcome relief from the bustling crowds outside. They paused in the entry way of the labs- the library being further in- listening for any signs of life and Cold glanced over when Barry let go of him and tugged on his sleeve.

The kid gestured around them with a confused frown, and signed, ' _why?'_

"Mick's old lady gets pissed if he doesn't visit while we're in town," Cold explained quietly as they started walking further into the building. "And Lisa's boy gets nervous. They both work here with Harrison Wells, some big name scientist or other."

' _Mick and Lisa are married?'_  Barry asked, writing this time. He'd written that as Cold was speaking, but froze in his spot at Cold's words, mouth hanging open and eyes widening. ' _You know Harrison Wells? THE Harrison Wells? The Astronomer?'_

Barry was practically bouncing on his feet, shaking with so much pent up excitement that Cold could barely read the words and he chuckled. "First, yes, Mick and Lisa are both married. And I didn't peg you as someone who followed science, kid. You've heard of Wells?"

The kid didn't get a chance to answer though.

"Mickael Dominic Rory, you are _a week_  late!"

"Lisa, you're back!"

Barry jumped beside him at the sharp and loud voices that sliced through the large cortex they'd entered, taking a step back to shield himself behind Cold.

Caitlin Snow-Rory had always been a firecracker of a woman- one of the reasons he thought Mick loved her so much. She was tall for a woman, though not nearly as tall as Mick or Lisa, with beautiful brown curls framing her face. Her brown eyes were sharp and angry as she stopped before her husband, hands on her hips and glaring up at him. Her pregnant belly made it an amusing sight to see, but Cold knew better than to laugh. "We were expecting you back last week and I get news about a pirate ship being sunk out in the waters, burst into flames! What am I supposed to think, huh? You've had us worried sick, you idiot!"

Lisa's husband was more down to earth than his best friend and colleague. He had darker skin, and even darker hair that was always pulled back into an elastic to keep out of his face and he was almost as jittery around Cold as Barry was. But... Cisco Ramon was- much to Cold's disappointment- a downright great guy, and absolutely perfect for his sister. Though he'd never tell the kid that. 

He didn't waste the time Caitlin did yelling at her husband, instead he strode forward and wrapped Lisa in his arms and kissed her.

Mick chuckled and rubbed at his head a bit, cheeks flushing red and shoulders slumping. "Sorry Snowflake, was gonna write 'ya but we didn't run into anymore ships on the way back. Wasn't us though-"

"Any _more_  ships?" She latched onto that and frowned, eyes quickly finding the bandage that was still wrapped around his arm. "You're hurt!"

Cold took a step forward and smiled at the duo, nodding his head respectfully to Caitlin. "Actually Doc, that's another reason we're here. We ran into another ship while we were away, that's the one you heard about," he told her. "Unfortunately none of the crew made it," Caitlin rolled her eyes at his false sympathy and Cisco cringed. "But, we did manage to rescue someone, and I'd like you to take a look at him if you would be so kind." Barry tensed behind him, shooting Cold a confused look. "Don't worry kid, she's a doctor, a good one, fixed up Mick when they met."

It would seem neither of the new people had noticed Barry until then because Caitlin's icy exterior immediately melted into a smile. "Oh of course!  You didn't tell me you needed my help!" She waved them forward, sliding her hand into the crook of Mick's arm and leading the way quickly.

"Well this is a little different than our normal fixes, Doc," Cold said, glancing over at Barry. The kid was a few steps away from him now, seemingly comfortable enough to not be latched onto him, but he still fumbled and messed with the sleeves of his shirt, tugging and pulling them. When hazel eyes slid over to him, Barry gave him a shy- if a bit surprised- smile and his face lit up. "Barry here is a bit more... special, and we'd like to keep it quiet for now."

They came to what looked like a large medical room and Caitlin waited until they had all entered before closing the door. She pointed at her husband with a glare. "Don't you go anywhere. As soon as I'm done with Barry, I'm looking at your arm. Now what do you mean Barry is- oh my."

Already seeing where this was going, Barry had started unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the collar. His marks seemed to glisten even more in the sunlight streaming in through the high windows and Cisco and Caitlin both stopped in their tracks to stare. Cold was intrigued to see that the kid's blush went all the way down his throat to his chest, but he too was in for a surprise when Barry dropped his shirt onto a chair. There weren't as many scars on him as Cold might have expected on a slave, mostly small ones, but as he'd been behind Barry when the boy took the shirt off, he could see Barry's biggest one clearly. It started at the base of his spine, splintering and spreading up his back and across his shoulder blades like a tree, and it was absolutely beautiful.

"He's a siren," Caitlin breathed, kicking Cold out of his distraction. "I've read about them, but I've never met one. Barry right?" The boy nodded, shrinking back a bit when she stepped forward. A motherly smile spread across Caitlin's lips and she waved to a chair. "Don't worry, you're perfectly safe here. Leonard just likes to make sure all of his crew are in peak health when they join, he's paranoid of spreading something I'm sure." The woman smiled when Barry took a seat and turned to the rest of them. "Alright, you can all make yourself scarce now. Mick, don't go far, I was serious about your arm."

"Boss has business," Mick grunted, nodding a head toward Cold. "I'll come back when we're done."

Caitlin didn't seem too happy about that, but she nodded anyway. Cold took a moment as the others walked out and knelt in front of Barry. "You gonna be okay here without us, Scarlet?"

' _You trust her?'_

"I don't trust most people," Cold said honestly, but his eyes slid over to where Mick was pressing an uncharacteristically soft kiss on his wife's belly. "But Caitlin is good people. It takes someone strong and smart to nail down Mick." After a few seconds, Barry nodded and Cold grinned. "Alright, I'll be back. Ask Cait to show you the library when she's done, I'm sure you'll love it."

"Do you mind if I ask you some personal questions, Barry?" Caitlin asked after all the others had left. He frowned at her and the strange metal thing she held up to her chest. He flipped back to the front page of his notebook and pointed to the spot where it explained he couldn't speak, and the doctor only nodded. "Yeah, Mick told me before he left. You can write the answers you need to, but if you prefer, I can try and ask mostly yes or no answers, okay?" He nodded. "Great! Now, I'll tell you right now, that while I've read about Sirens, I don't know much about you other than stories. From what I can tell just by looking at you, you seem healthy enough, if only a bit underfed and exhausted. Do you sleep much?" The boy tensed under her probing fingers, a deep set frown on his face. "Don't worry, Barry, you're not in trouble, I just have to ask these things."

' _I do not sleep well at night. I sleep better in the day.'_

"Is that because you're a siren?"

' _Yes. We sing for the moon so she does not get sad.'_

Caitlin blinked at that as she started feeling around the boy's head to check for any damage. "Why would the moon be sad?"

' _Because her lover is far away. She sees him for only a few minutes every day cycle. The days which they both can be seen are very special days. We sing loudly then.'_

"The sun? The sun is her lover?" Barry nodded and Caitlin found herself smiling at that before circling around him to check his back. "That's beautiful, but sad. May I ask you where you got this scar, here Barry?" She questioned, tracing up the branches of the tree-like scar. She could feel him tense again under her touch, but he relaxed much quicker this time. "I have seen it before on people who've been struck by lightning. Is that what happened?"

Barry flipped to a new page and started writing frantically, if a bit unsure. ' _I was younger, travelling with my sister in the waters near your land named Star. Many beautiful things wash into our waters from there and ~~Ir~~  my sister loves to make up stories as to what they could be.'_ The doctor was a bit surprised to see that the boy had a sister and couldn't help wonder herself where the girl was, if she too had been brought onto land. ' _It was storming that night, but we enjoy the storms as they stir up the waters and reveal new things to us.'_  Caitlin counted his ribs as he wrote, felt along his spine for anything amiss. ' _A ship was nearby and my sister wished to go see it, but it was large and the waves were casting it all about. I don't remember much of what happened but I got too close to the surface, the ~~moon spark~~  lightning hit me as I was getting her out of the way. That is how I was captured. Eobard saw me drifting in the waters, my sister had gone to get help... but I was gone before she returned.'_

"It's very rare for a siren to be found so close to shore," Caitlin said softly, his story tugging at her heart and threatening tears behind her eyes. "I'm sorry that happened to you." A sad smile spread across the boy's lips and the doctor could tell he had long ago given up on the hope of going home. She took a seat in front of him and leaned back a bit, fingers resting on her belly. "May I ask you questions about Sirens?"

Barry's head ticked to the side. ' _What would you like to know?'_

"I have seen drawings of them in books, journals and papers. They don't usually have legs in the pictures, but the ones who are captured walk on land with two feet. How is that?"

' _We change with the waters,'_  Barry wrote and Caitlin shifted her chair to sit beside him so she could read as he went along. ' _The moon gave us powers to shift our forms. If you put me back in the sea, I'd no longer have legs, but my tail.'_

She found herself wondering what the boy's tail looked like. "Fascinating." She paused, another thought coming to mind that had her face screwing up a bit. "I have another question, but I don't want you to feel offended by it." The siren blinked but nodded for her to go on. "There are a lot of stories that say a siren... well that they sing to draw men to their deaths. That they can control someone's mind with their voice. Is that true?"

Something soft and trickling came from the boy's mouth and his eyes scrunched up with his smiling. Caitlin might have called it a laugh if the sound wasn't so beautiful, and the runes around Barry's throat and wrists flickered a bit with the sound. ' _We sing for the moon, not your men. If they are distracted by our sound, that is their fault not ours. But no, we do not control people with our voices.'_

"You've a lovely laugh, Barry," Caitlin smiled, "I'd love to hear you sing sometime."


	5. Sunshine Itself In My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold comes back a little worse for wear and Barry is worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not extremely happy with the beginning of this chapter, feel like it was a little rushed, but I am super happy with the ending so I hope everyone enjoys!

Cold was sporting a new cut across his cheekbone and a few bruised knuckles by the time he and Mick returned to the library, but his purse was weighed down with a nice amount of money for the items they'd managed to sell off. And Mick was much more tolerable now that he'd gotten to crack a few skulls. 

Though Caitlin's office was empty, they had managed to track the small group down to a small corner of the library where chairs and couches were set up against the wall. Lisa was curled up on a loveseat with her husband, listening contentedly while he read to her what sounded like Plato, and running fingers through her hair. Her eyes were closed, but Cold could tell she was awake, completely aware of her surroundings. 

It was Barry though that made the captain's heart ache with domesticity. He was on one of the couches, long legs stretched out for miles before him and nose stuck in a book too heavy for him to be holding with one hand. He didn't seem to notice the newcomers at all, too busy reading and brushing fingers in small designs lightly over Caitlin's belly. She laid on her back next to him, kneels curled up against the back of the couch and head pillowed in Barry's lap. She was blissfully and undoubtedly asleep, her chest rising and falling evenly and looking like an angel amongst the satin lining of the chair. 

"Looks like you've been getting comfortable," Cold said quietly as to not wake Caitlin, and he was impressed that Barry's startled jolt didn't wake her either- though his fingers continued their movements on her stomach. Cold couldn't help but smile at the scene, and at his sister when she peaked her eyes open. 

"Well we can't all be out getting rich off of stolen goods," Cisco said smartly, though any retort Cold might have given was cut off by a soft grunt.

He frowned, turning back towards the siren to see him reaching a hand out to him. It was obvious the kid wanted to get up, but Caitlin had still not woken from the noise and he didn't look ready to be the one to wake her. So Cold took pitty on the kid and stepped towards him. "What is it, kid?" He almost expected Barry to pull out his notebook and start writing in it, but instead he found his wrist being tugged on until he was forced to his knees in front of the boy. Worry was etched into those hazel eyes and his adorable face scrunched up like he was in pain. A soft whine escaped Barry's chest, like he was trying to ask a question but the words wouldn't come out, and he raised the hand he'd been holding the book in towards the pirate's face. His fingers were light across Cold's skin, as he imagined they were against Caitlin's belly, and if that's what it felt like, it was no wonder the woman was sleeping so soundly. Cold almost found himself leaning into the touch if it weren't for the fear in Barry's eyes.

He let the boy turn his head for a better look, willing himself not to flinch or show that it hurt too much.

"I'm fine, Barry, just part of the job," he muttered, not used to having to explain himself to anyone. Everyone on his crew new the dangers of what they did, and he didn't have an old lady- or man for that matter- to come home to like Mick and Lisa. He didn't have to be careful with who worried about him. "It's just a scratch."

Barry frowned at that, shaking his head and glancing down at Caitlin with a sad look in his eye. "Don't," Cold ordered, knowing Barry wanted to ask the doctor to look at him. "She needs her rest and I told you, I'm fine. If it makes you feel better," he found himself saying, "I'll have Shawna take a look when we're back on the ship, okay?"

It took a few moments, but the kid nodded. 

For the next thirty minutes, the group sat around either reading or recounting the events of their latest trip to sea, Barry listening intently and Cold trying not to make it obvious that he was watching the boy. Soon though the day turned to dusk and goodbyes were said. Cisco and Lisa parted to their shared house on Well's property and Mick ambled over to where Barry and Caitlin were still sitting on the couch. 

Mick too looked a bit reluctant to wake the pregnant doctor, but his big fingers brushing the hair from her forehead seemed to be enough. She blinked up at him, sleep fogging over her brown eyes and a soft- tired- smile on her face. "Mick, you're back already."

"Been back a while, Snowflake, but you needed t' sleep."

Caitlin hummed, turning her head a bit into Mick's palm and nodded. "Barry sang for me..."

Cold's interest peaked instantly and both men looked up at the siren who'd promptly turned the shade of a tomato. He looked like he'd been caught red handed, allowing Mick to lift Caitlin into his arms without argument. "Did he now?" Mick mused, smiling down at Barry with a look that could only be described as a thank you. 

"He did... he was beautiful," she muttered before falling back asleep against Mick's chest.

Cold waited until it was just him and Barry walking back to the ship, shoulder to shoulder, before asking. "Do you sing for people often?" Barry blinked a bit in surprise at the question, looking up at Cold and then up at the sky. He smiled like a child looking at a particularly fond parent and shrugged. He gestured to his belly and signed 'tired' as they turned down another street, heading back towards the docks. "She has been tired lately according to Cisco," Cold agreed. "The baby has been taking a toll on her, but she's managing. She's strong." The boy nodded in agreement and the pirate found himself smiling at just how happy Barry looked in that moment, moonlight glistening against his skin and almost carefree amongst the crowded streets. Even in the darkness he could see the blush dusting across Barry's face and he found himself loving it more and more than he probably should be. "You'll have to sing for me one day," he said quietly, smiling down at Barry's wide eyes. "If you want to, that is. I think I'd very much enjoy it if it made the doc sleep so well."

Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the walk- or Cold didn't at least, and Barry didn't attempt to communicate. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence though, not at all. Barry was a welcome warmth beside the pirate, pressed close enough that Cold's arm was almost around him as they tried to stick together despite the crowds. Normally the captain wouldn't let anyone but Lisa or Mick close to him like this, even most of his crew kept a safe distance. But with Barry, it didn't seem to bother him at all. There was something about the kid that was just... trusting, intoxicating. 

He was dangerous.

But Cold couldn't stop himself from caring, even if he wanted to.

Nor did he stop Barry from following him past the kid's room and straight into the captain's quarters. He did frown at the kid though, the question in his eyes as to why Barry was there. Barry didn't answer so much as he shoved Cold towards the bed, forcing him to sit down on the edge of it while he rushed off towards the water basin on the other side of the room. It wasn't until he was carrying a wet cloth and small bundle of bandages towards Cold that he understood. "Kid, I said I'm fine."

Barry wasn't having it though, he just kicked Len's legs apart and stood between them, placing the bandages on the bed beside them. He used his free hand to lift Cold's chin and his other to dab carefully at the blood on his cheek. It'd long ago stopped bleeding, but the pirate had never taken the time to clean himself up after returning to the labs, so he just huffed and let Barry do the work.

After he was done, he moved onto the older man's hands, wiping the blood off of them before slowly wrapping them. It was then that Cold could tell the kid was nervous- though he wouldn't know why just yet. Barry's hands shook slightly as he wrapped the bandages tight around the bruised knuckles, and his face was a bright red. He didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong though before it happened.

Well... honestly, he wasn't sure _what_ was happening at first, only that it shocked him down to his very core and sent shivers across every inch of his skin.

Barry's voice was... Cold didn't even know how to explain it without waxing poetics. He could only think that this is what the Gods sounded like when they wept, what the angels sounded like when they cheered, and what demons sounded like in the throws of passion. The melody trickled from Barry's throat like the gentle crashing of waves against the shore, a sound so familiar to Cold that he could almost picture Barry in the waves, water glistening across his skin and voice reaching to the heavens. And Caitlin had been right, Barry was absolutely beautiful when he sang. The runes across his skin lit up like a lantern across the waters or gold in the shadow of the moon. His face lost the worry and pain, replaced only by joy and content. The boy looked impossibly younger when he sang and even though Cold couldn't understand the language he was singing in, he still knew the meanings behind them because Barry's face told it all.

Cold hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he felt a hand press gently against his chest, pushing as if to remind him that he desperately needed air because he was just a human. _Just a human_ , in the presence of a god.

He'd never once been caught off guard like this, never once found himself completely floored with no possible response in his mind. He was sure he was gaping like a fish, all masks dropped in the instant the first few notes trickled out.

If he wasn't so shocked, so entranced and intoxicated by the sound, Cold could have closed his eyes right then and drifted off to sleep to the sound just as Caitlin had. No wonder the woman wouldn't be roused so easily. That paired with Barry's gentle hands on his skin was almost too much to handle, the pirate found himself gasping in a breath so quietly, and yet it sliced through the air like a sword.

Thinking he must have hurt the pirate, Barry yanked his hands back and took a stuttered step away from the bed, voice cutting off.

The silence was deafening after such a lovely sound, pounding in Cold's ears as if to punish him from stopping the song. His eyes felt hot and before he could stop himself he was reaching his bandaged hands out to the siren, not even knowing what he might do if he caught him.

"No," he whispered, brain barely functioning enough to form words and for a brief second he wondered if what they said about Sirens was true, if they could control a man's mind with their song. "Don't stop. You didn't hurt me." 

Barry's face was unsure and his hands shook as he clasped them around his elbows, hugging himself in... some emotion Cold couldn't quite grasp with his mind still foggy. The siren seemed to watch him for a moment while the pirate attempted to situate himself and breathe. Cold wasn't sure what Barry was looking for with those golden hazel eyes, because he dropped his arms and stepped back between Cold's legs a bit hesitantly. His fingers still shook a bit as he took up the hand he hadn't finished bandaging yet and quickly set back to work. Neither of them said anything until he was done and both hands were tightly wrapped.

Only then did Barry rub his hand over his chest to sign 'sorry'.

"What for?"

Barry shrugged, but at Cold's insistent look, he pulled the notebook out of his pocket and after a second of writing, turned it towards the older man. ' _The first time can be a lot... I should have warned you first.'_

"Warned me..." Cold snorted and shook his head, leaning back on one hand and running the other over his head. "I've heard that Sirens have incredible voices, but I didn't imagine... that." Though he didn't say it, he could see now why the rare breeds were so sought after, why nobles would pay such a high dollar for them. "You've got a wonderful talent there, Scarlet. You should use it more often."

Something flickered over Barry's face too fast for Cold to register what it was, but instead of the blush he expected, he received a small nod and tight smile instead. He didn't need to ask why before Barry turned the book back to him. ' _I'll sing for you whenever you like.'_

If he hadn't known Barry's past, he might have been flattered, but instead the sentence sent his stomach churning. The image of Barry in a gilded bird cage sent anger coursing through him and he shook his head, taking the boy's wrists in his hands and stopping whatever he'd been writing. He looked up into surprised eyes with a certain seriousness he'd had to use on Lisa plenty of times when she was a child. "Listen to me, Barry," he said for probably the hundredth time- and probably not the last. "That wasn't an order, okay? You don't have to sing for anyone if you don't want to. I only meant that you don't have to..."  he paused, searching for the right words. "You don't have to wait for permission, you don't have to hide your voice. If you want to sing, you sing. You're not some caged bird for me to keep to myself, alright?"

That look of pure shock was one he was getting used to on the siren's face, the one that told him he wasn't used to having free will, wasn't used to being told that he could do or have whatever he wanted. It pissed Cold off, angered him so much that he struggled to keep it from showing. He wanted to find whoever else had broken the boy and rip them apart limb from limb, wanted to tear through the seas and sink any ship that dared look at the boy like a prize to be won. He wanted to-

He froze in his thoughts when a pair of soft hands framed his face and even softer lips pressed shyly to his own. It wasn't a deep kiss or a hard one by any means, and it was over almost as soon as it began, but it left lightning across his skin and stole the breath right from inside his lungs. Damn this kid was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

When he finally blinked back into existence, he looked up to see Barry's blush spreading down his throat, making the gold runes even brighter.

He must have been silent too long because Barry started fidgetting under his stare, his body tensing and ready to take a step away, but Cold was faster. He took Barry's chin in his fingers and pulled him back down slightly so they were at eye level. Barry's lips were red from him chewing on them, and Cold brushed his thumb over Barry's bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. He shouldn't be doing this, he knew that. He didn't need distractions, didn't need someone to come home to like Mick and Lisa... didn't need this broken little boy that he no doubt would just break even further. And yet...

And yet.

"Tell me that was because you wanted it," Cold muttered quietly, searching Barry for some sign of a lie, "not because you felt I ordered it or I wanted it. Did you kiss me because _you_  wanted to kiss me?"

Barry's blush deepened even further if it were possible and he swallowed thickly, eyebrows pulling down as if he was considering a lie. But he nodded instead, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly in a shy sort of smile. Cold could tell the kid was unsure- not about wanting to kiss him, but about whether it'd be returned or not he suspected. It was such an innocent look that Cold couldn't help but kiss it away.

So what if the kid was a god and he was but a mere man. If he could spend even a moment of his insignificant life with sunshine itself in his arms... well maybe he could stand to fall a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally know that sounded like an ending ending of the story, but it's not over! Don't despair! I've got more to write, Len is just a dramatic asshole and wanted a dramatic line in there lol


	6. He's Partial to Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry overhears a conversation that gets him thinking... an old enemy resurfaces from Barry's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So nothing is outright mentioned in this chapter, but there's going to be heavy talk of rape and panic attacks and abuse in this and the next few chapters. Just a warning now.  
> Also, thank you everyone for all the AWESOME reviews! I'm so glad everyone is liking this story!

It started with a conversation Barry happened to overhear in the library. Lisa and Cisco were curled up in one of the corners and the siren had just so happened to pass an isle nearby when he heard his name among the voices.

Naturally, though a bit ashamed about it, he found himself listening in.

"So Barry and your brother?" Ciscos voice carried through the door, the question hanging off but the intentions clear.

"I think so. They're adorable, but I think Lenny is still unsure. He's never been very... open I guess," Lisa answered, making Barry blush at what she was suggesting. "Barry gets away with a lot more than anyone else would be able to though, and I saw them kiss a few days ago, kid smiled like he'd been given the entire sea as a present."

She had? Ever since the first time, Cold had let the siren kiss him on rare occasions when they were alone. He'd even kissed Barry once, something the boy remembered with fondness. He wondered if that's what Lisa had seen.

Cisco hummed with interest, shifting on the couch a bit and Barry took a cautionary step back. "You think they're...."

Barry frowned, not sure what the man was asking, but Lisa must have known because she snorted in amusement. "You can say it, Cisco dear, though I'm not sure I want the image of my brother having sex in my head." Barry barely held back a gasp, knowing his face was red hot. Though he'd thought about it once or twice since they'd started kissing, Barry couldn't help but feel sick at the thought, not only because of what eobard had done... but because Cold had already turned him away for such an offer. He doubted the pirate wanted him like that. And yet... "But no, I don't think so," Lisa continued, unaware of Barry's internal freak out. "Lenny is a gentleman and Barry is a bit... broken right now. Even if Len wanted to, which I've no doubt he probably does, he wouldn't risk hurting Barry more than he's already been hurt."

Barry didn't stay to hear the rest of the conversation, instead taking his leave of the library all together, a small bundle of borrowed books in his hands. The walk back to the ship was a long one and he found it gave him time to think of what Lisa had suggested. Was Barry truly so broken that Cold- Len perhaps- would never want him? Or was it simply that he wouldn't make a move until Barry did? Then came the question as to whether Barry wanted that or not. Leonard Snart was an attractive man, he'd never deny such. He seemed kind enough to those he trusted and he did let Barry kiss him, something Barry had never truly enjoyed before and yet now seemed to crave. 

But Barry was no fool. He wasn't overly attractive, or wouldn't be at least if it weren't for what he was, what it meant. He doubted Len would want him at all if he were just an ordinary human- the man had even told him that he wanted Barry for his value. He saw how the man interacted with the others. He was protective of them, sure, even caring, but miss Lisa and Mick were the only ones ever allowed to touch the captain. What would make Barry special enough that he was allowed to other than the fact that the captain probably took pity on him, on the broken little song bird he'd picked up in the ocean. But still when Barry closed his eyes at night he could feel Len's hands on him, imagine his lips brushing across his skin or vice versa. So maybe... just maybe he-

"Barry?"

The siren stopped in his tracks, his blood running cold and heart stopping in his chest before restarting like an engine, pounding and pounding against his rib cage. He didn't need to turn to know who's voice it was, didn't need to see the sharp black uniform he wore or the dusty blonde hair across his head. He knew. He knew with every fiber of his being before he even turned that those hungry green eyes would be on him, drinking him in like he was a meal to be had.

So he didn't look, didn't dare turn to see if he was right. The chill in his bones had him running before his mind could catch up with the action. People yelled at him in his wake as he shoved through the evening crowd and his feet stumbled one too many times under him but he didn't dare stop. He couldn't stop, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Panic was settling low in his stomach and he knew that was dangerous because it meant he couldn't focus, but he had to keep running, had to get away. His legs were sore by the time the Rogue's Gallery came into view, cresting over a hill like a savior and Barry almost let out a sob at the sight. His chest was burning and he wanted nothing more than to scream out for help, to tell them that he was coming, that he needed them- but no sound came.

The ramp was already down so that they could travel too and from the ship willingly and Barry barely made it up without tripping again. He didn't stop until he practically slammed into the first body that came his way on the top deck. He would have fallen back at the force if it weren't for the strong, burned hands that gripped at his shoulders.

"Kid? The hell's goin' on?" Barry didn't answer, couldn't. His hands were shaking too bad to write anything and his brain couldn't even comprehend what he might have told the pirate. He hadn't even thought to listen if the man was following him or not, didn't want to turn back and see if he'd led the danger right to their doorstep so to speak. He gripped at Mick's shirt with his fists, digging his face into the fabric and gulping in deep, shaky breaths because it was all he could think to do. The panic was too much, building and building and he couldn't see past the hot tears in his eyes so he just squeezed them shut. He heard Mick tell someone to get the captain, but there was a throbbing in his ears and pinpricks on his skin and he couldn't _focus_. "Kid, you gotta talk to me, what's goin' on? You in trouble?"

The siren found enough sanity left in him to nod, though he didn't pull away at all from the hulking man. Mick was the strongest on the crew, the most deadly beside Cold... if anyone could keep him safe it'd be him. Or he'd at least put up a damn good fight, maybe Barry could get away in the chaos, run and run until he was back in the sea, swimming home. Miss Lisa would be sad to see him go, Len might even miss him... but if there was a choice? He'd rather be lost in the ocean trying to make his way back to what little family he had left than stay with-

"Barry? I thought that was you."

The way Barry tensed must have alarmed Mick, because the older man immediately shoved the siren behind him, easily hiding the boy in his shadow. "An' who th' fuck are you?"

"Me?" The man at the top of the ramp repeated. From the sound of it, he hadn't stepped onto the ship yet- which was probably a good idea because Barry had learned in his short stay there that Pirates had a lot of rules and superstitions that people on land didn't. Barry dug his face into the spot between Mick's shoulder blades, trying desperately to control his breathing so he wouldn't pass out from lack of air, and he could feel the others gathering behind them. Their presence set both dread and hope in his stomach, knowing they were there to protect him, but also knowing just how dangerous their enemy could be when he wanted. "My name is Eobard Thawne and you happen to be in possession of something that's mine."

"Do we now," Mick asked, though it was stated more like a fact than a question. "Well y' see, we steal a lot'a stuff and don't always keep track 'a the numbers, so you'd 'ave to be more specific."

Roy stepped up beside them, close enough for Barry to see his feet against the deck, but far enough away that he couldn't feel his heat. "Hmm, you think he's the guy we stole that painting from a few weeks back? Dunno, man, we usually let Mick have fun with the ones we don't keep. You can check the ashes along the bottom of the waters though."

"No, no," Shawna interrupted. "No, he's the guy we stole that jewel set from. You remember," she said, elbowing Mick as if it were all true. "It was the one that Lisa tried to beg Cold to keep and she whined and whined for days on end until he finally just threw the thing in the ocean. Think she managed to keep one of the rings though. You'll have to pry it off her cold dead hands though if you want that back. She's pretty partial to it."

Barry tensed again when Eobard spoke, the low set of anger in his voice. "Do not patronize me, you know what you've taken and I would kindly like it back."

"Like she said," a cool, familiar drawl said from a bit above them. Barry's muscles almost instantly relaxed and his eyes shot up to see Len leaning against the railing of the upper deck, wearing his fancy blue coat and gun in hand. Hartley was just behind him, confusion and anger in his eyes, but Len was the picture of calm. "Cold, dead hands."

"Are you the captain of this ship?" Eobard demanded, no doubt standing tall and adjusting his uniform.

Len hummed, rolling his eyes over to where Barry hid behind Mick as if to make sure he was okay. He wasn't, not at all, but he nodded to Len anyway. "I am, so I have the right to shoot you if you step one toe onto my Gallery." The pirate pushed away from the railing and sauntered- like the dramatic man he was- down the stairs until he was standing right beside Mick, also serving as another shield for Barry. He leaned his weight on one foot and rested his gun on his shoulder. "So tell me, Mr. Thawne, why it is you've decided to harass a member of my crew?"

"Your crew? He is- you don't even know what he is!"

Barry flinched at the sudden volume of Eobard's voice and Mick must have felt it because he let a warning grunt escape his throat, hand lowering down to the gun he had on his own hip.  "Now, now," Len said cooly, stopping Mick from actually drawing the weapon. "Let's be gentlemen about this, why don't we? Tell me, what do you do for a living, Mr. Thawne?"

There was a long silence. Barry imagined Eobard standing there, face twisted in anger and fists clenched at his sides, wanting more than anything to step onto the ship and take what was his, but no doubt knowing they were outnumbered. "I'm an adviser to the Royal Family," Eobard spat. "I'm here on business for them and I'm sure they would love to hear about pirates on their shores. I'd be willing to forgive your trespassing if you would _give me back what's mine._ "

"Cute," Len drawled, rolling his eyes over to Mick, "he thinks we're negotiating. Look, Mr. Thawn, I steal things. I'm a pirate. I'm sure you know what that means despite how-" he paused, thinking of the right word, "minuscule your brain seems to be. So let me explain something to you. We don't follow the rules. We don't let the Oliver Queen- god same him and all that jazz- decide what we do and don't do. I steal because I like it and I'm good at it."

"Oh I've heard of you," the adviser replied with venom. "You're well known in our courts."

"Good," Len said all too proudly, waving his gun a bit towards the man. "Then you know that I've a reputation to keep to. And you know how I do that? By not giving back the valuables in which I steal. Especially one's I'm partial to."

Eobard was silent for a long time, fuming where he stood and Barry couldn't help but start shaking again. Eobard was a dangerous man, one Barry was absolutely terrified of... even though he couldn't do anything against an entire crew of pirtes- small as it might be- he could come back with an entire army in hours. They'd never stand a chance. Len and Mick and Miss Lisa and all the others would be slaughtered before they had a chance to even try and fight back. Barry couldn't let that happen, couldn't stand them to die for him.

The siren had barely moved before Len was shifting in front of him again, blocking him from Eobard's view. He moved one hand behind him, taking Barry's hand in his own and giving the boy the tiniest shake of the head. He must have known what Barry was about to do... but still-

"You'll rue this day, Cold. Mark my words. I'll get him back if I have to burn this entire boat to the ground."

Len hummed, as if the entire conversation bored him and shrugged a bit. "Bit cliche, but not bad for parting words. Have a nice rest of your evening, Mr. Thawn." After a few more moments, the adviser must have been gone because Len and Mick both relaxed just a touch, the former turning to look down at Barry. His ice blue eyes raked over Barry's shaking form, searching for any physical damage before he turned back to the others. With one hand, he signed at Hartley to go get Lisa as fast as possible and to tell the others to lay low. "We leave as soon as Lisa and Hartley return. I want this ship ready to set sail the second that ramp is lifted, got it?"

Barry wanted to do something to help, wanted to jump into action like the others were doing- even Mick... but he couldn't find it in himself to even move. He was out of his body, his head pounding and chest aching... but it was like it was all happening to someone else, somewhere else. He barely registered Len's hand in his own or the cool fingers brushing across his cheek. He barely noticed when he was dragged through the halls of the lower decks and into the captain's quarters.

"Scarlet, look at me." Green eyes met blue and the older man framed Barry's face with his cold hands. "Are you with me, Barry? I need you to breathe, okay? In and out." Len took one of Barry's hands and pressed it against his chest, letting the boy feel the heartbeat underneath and the gentle rise and fall movements- like the ocean's tide against the shore, or the gentle rocking of the boat back and forth, back and forth.

Barry closed his eyes, fingers trying to grip at Len's shirt but the man kept his hand flat...

So Barry did what he was told- he breathed.


	7. We All Have our Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry gives Len his thanks for saving him from Eobard, and finally gets something he wants in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I know these chapters aren't on any sort of schedule, sorry guys. I kind of just write when I feel the inspiration, so I bounce between stories a lot. Thank you for being patient with me! :)

Saying Len was feeling pissed would be the biggest understatement of the year. He was beyond pissed, beyond furious- that Eobard Thawne would dare come to his ship and _demand_  Barry like he was some prized stallion. It had taken all of the captain's control not to shoot the man when he called Barry a possession, even more so when he brought up the Queens like they had any right over him and his ship. And the worry rolling through him, the concern he felt for the siren who could barely breathe even after he'd brought him back to his chambers, only made the anger that much worse.

"Can you tell me who that was? You've mentioned an Eobard before. Breathe for me, okay? I need to know what's going on."

He had Barry's hand pressed to his chest, the fingers cold and shaking but it seemed to be working. Len could see the fog clearing up from the boy's eyes, see the moment his breathing synced up with his own. What he didn't see was the moment Barry shot forward and connected their lips together. He'd barely blinked before Barry had practically tackled him onto the bed, the siren straddling his hips and holding his face in his cold hands. Len grunted but Barry didn't let up.

After a moments hesitation- one where Len debated on whether this was a good idea or not- his hands found Barry's hips and he kissed him back. 

The kiss itself was a bit desperate, hungry even as if they were both starving men surviving off each other. And he supposed they were. It'd been a long time since Len had the company of anyone else worth wile. Sure, he stopped by brothels every once in a while when he needed to, but this of course was different. It'd been too long since he'd held someone he genuinely cared about, someone he didn't want to break, someone he wanted to wake up to in the morning. And Barry was that someone, even if the boy was a bit broken already, even if he probably didn't know what real passion was because of what Eobard and Hunter had done to him. Having him there, though, wrapped in his arms and kissing him like he was sacking the life out of him...

It was dangerous, but Len couldn't stop himself. The noises the boy made as Len bucked up, as the pirates fingers slid under his shirt, we're intoxicating and Len wondered just how many beautiful sounds he could draw from the boy.

He shifted his hips again, this time to flip them so he was on top and the siren was under him. And damn did that kid look good, pale skin across his dark blue blankets. His lips were red from kissing and his hazel eyes glazed over. That beautiful Scarlet blush dusted across his cheeks and down his throat.

"Beautiful," he found himself whispering, leaning down to press soft kisses along the boys jaw and down his throat. It drew soft little gasps from Barry and his fingers clutched onto Lens shoulders as if to ground himself. His lips tingled as he pressed them to the runes etched into Barry's neck, like the after effects of lightning and he could smell the ozone in the air. A flick of his tongue sent Barry arching into him and Len had to physically stop himself and reorder his brain for a moment. "Barry," he breathed, pulling his hips away when the siren canted his own up, knowing that any sort of friction might make him lose his train of thought, his sanity. He needed to think real quick, needed to remember that this wasn't a good idea.

"We shouldn't do this." He felt the boy tense under him and when he pulled back slightly those hazel eyes were filled with confusion and hurt, eyebrows pulled down and lips twisted into an unsure pout. Not liking the look on the boy, Len raised a hand and brushed his fingers along Barry's jaw. "I want to," he said honestly, "gods do I want to."

Hands tugged on his shirt, trying to pull him closer but hazel eyes looked at him in question. 'Why not?' Barry signed.

"I don't want you thinking you owe me anything," he told the siren. Having this... innocence beneath him, shining and splendid, made Len want to take and take and take. He was a pirate, a thief, and dammit if it wasn't ingrained in his very bones. He saw something shiny, something other people cherished, and he wanted to make it his own. Barry was no different. He was valuable, there was no doubt about that, but more than that he was cherished. By everyone that met him. Lisa, Mick, Cisco and Caitlin, even Mardon liked him and he was hard pressed to like anyone who wasn't Shawna. Barry had a heart of gold and Len wanted it all to himself. He wanted Barry to be his and no one else's, wanted him by his side forever... wanted him to love him even. But who would love a pirate? Len killed and stole for a living. He had the moral compass of a wolf- all predator and no provider. Sure, he protected and provided for his crew, his family... But like a wolf he protected what was his. He'd protect his pack, his crew, but if one turned on them or betrayed them, they were out- no mercy. Lisa and Mick were the only exceptions.

A soft caress brushed against his cheekbone and he focused again to see Barry staring at him, searching and waiting for some answer.

"I'm not a good man, Barry," Len told him, shaking his head when Barry opened his mouth. "I'm not. I have no problem killing people who cross me, no problem stealing from those who have things to steal. I leave wreckage in my wake, Scarlet. I'm known around the seas as Captain Cold for a reason." The kid tilted his head a bit as if he didn't understand and Len sighed. "You'll find soon that I'm not the man you want to do this with. You could find so many people better than a selfish old man like me."

There was a long silence for a moment before the pirate felt gentle hands pressing against his chest. He leaned back, twisting until he was sitting beside the siren instead of over him, and tried to ignore the stab of pain in his chest. But Barry wasn't running away from him, wasn't agreeing. He'd only gotten up to grab his notebook before he was straddling the captain again, a small but lovely blush on his cheeks.

' _I've been with other men,_ ' Barry wrote quickly, though he quickly pulled away again to keep going, not letting Len take a peak until he was done. _'Ever since I've been out of the sea, I've been a captive. The only person who'd been nice to me at all in the past few years was the king- Oliver.'_  Len refused to admit any stab of jealousy he felt at reading that, noting to himself that he needed the story behind that later, and continued on. _'I have seen selfish old men all over the land, and even on the sea, and you are not one of them. I've been with men that I don't want to be with, you're not one of them.'_

The pirate opened his mouth to reply, but Barry leaned in quickly to silence him, his lips soft and gentle before he pulled back again to write something else down.

' _You're afraid of breaking me, but that's already been done. I'm grateful for you rescuing me, I'm grateful that you've been so kind and caring towards me when you could have just sold me to the highest bidder and lived a perfectly comfortable life. But I'm not doing this because I owe you. For once in the time that I've been out of the sea, I'm doing something I want to do. If anything, I should be the one saying I'm not worthy.'_

"Not worthy," Len snorted, taking Barry's book and setting it back on the table before framing the siren's face in his hands. "You're too good for anything in this world, Scarlet. Never let anyone tell you differently." 

This kiss was different. It wasn't hungry or desperate like the one that had started the night. It was a promise almost. They both had shitty pasts- though Barry didn't know of his yet- and they'd both been broken. This kiss was an acknowledgement, an indulgence that neither of them could get anywhere else, and Len found himself giving over to the feeling swelling up inside him. He made sure to be gentle with the siren, fingers caressing instead of pressing, always asking before removing anything. It was a lot more communication than he was used to in situations like this, but he felt like they both needed it. Barry was shy, unsure about a lot of things- but Len didn't seem to be one of those things.

He opened up like a flower, arching and preening under him as Len worked him open. He pressed soft kisses to the inside of Barry's trembling thighs, nuzzling his face up against the base of the boy's member. He was determined to make sure Barry was the one being satisfied first. He had no doubt that in the boys previous... relationships- though he was reluctant to call them that- he'd never been the one of importance, never been the one pleased but rather the one doing the pleasing. The pirate was hell-bent on changing that.

He licked a long stripe up Barry's erection in distraction as he slid another finger in, working slowly as to not hurt the boy. There was a twist of discomfort on the siren's face, but it hadn't bordered on pain yet and judging by the way Barry clenched around him and rocked against his fingers, Barry was enjoying this just as much as Len was.

It wasn't much longer before hands were grabbing and pulling at Len's shirt, yanking him up until soft lips found his. He allowed the action, kissing back just as hungrily and crooking his fingers in just the right way until-

Barry's marks glowed a bright gold as he gasped, a soft trickle of sound escaping his lips that couldn't be considered words but wasn't exactly a note of song either. It was beautiful though and Barry's fingers tightened on the captain's shoulders, twisting in his shirt and tugging at it again. He wanted it off, he wanted all of it off as Len was still fully clothed except for his shoes and hose. 

A hand slid up under Len's shirt and he froze, the high that had previously been soaking him in clearing almost instantly. His heart kicked it up a notch and Barry tensed under him in response, hazel eyes cautious but questioning. Len cursed himself for not thinking this far ahead. When he fucked whores, they never blinked when he took off his shirt- or didn't. They were getting paid either way, they never pushed, never questioned. This was different though. Feelings were involved and the pirate wasn't used to that. Still, the look on Barry's face had him ducking down to press a reassuring kiss on the boy's lips and he traced one of Barry's few scars as he whispered, "we all have our cracks."

He didn't wait for a response, didn't need one, just stood up long enough to pull the shirt over his head and drop his trousers to the floor. He gave the boy a moment to take it in, knowing exactly what he looked like. Scars littered his torso, his arms, his legs. They were everywhere, marking him with his occupation and his childhood, reminding him that at one point in his life he had been too _weak_. There were a few tattoos placed among the scars: Lisa's name etched over his heart, a campfire inked into his forearm for Mick, the brand of a pirate seared into his ribs.

To the captain's surprise, there was no look of disgust or pity on the boy's face. Instead it lit up a bright red and Barry inched to the edge of the bed, fingers reaching up to trace the pirate brand on his side. It wasn't necessarily the scar he had imagined the siren focusing on, but he remained still, his breath catching in his throat as Barry pressed a kiss to the seared skin. And then thin fingers wrapped around his own hardness and his legs almost gave out under him in surprise. A low moan escaped as a shy tongue flicked out and licked at the head. "Barry, you don't-" his words cut off when a warm heat surrounded him and he had to card his fingers through Barry's brown hair to give him _something_  to hold onto. His head lolled back and he barely managed not to buck into that wet mouth because _damn_  did the kid know what he was doing.

Absently he mused that this was the siren's secret- not that they lured men to them with their song, but with their mouths in general. If this was the last thing he felt before he died, honestly Len wouldn't complain.

But it wasn't enough, and it was too much at the same time. If the kid kept going like he was, Len wasn't going to last much longer, so he pulled him away by the hair gently and positioned them back how they were. Barry's legs spread easily and the pirate fit between them like he was made for the space. Nails dug into his shoulders with a small spike of pain as he slowly slid in, not stopping until he was fully seated inside Barry.

Sex with Barry was like making love to a storm. It was beautiful and intense, all flickering golden lights and gasping, thunderous moans. Every touch was electric, leaving tingles all over his skin and his blood charged with energy. And Barry- oh _Barry..._  He tasted like the ocean, salty and warm, and yet at the same time like a spark of lightning. He burned through Len's very essence, clinging to him and rocking with him- the sea to his ship, back and forth and back and forth. They moved in perfect rhythm and Len honestly thought he'd never get over the sweet, intoxicating noises that escaped Barry's throat. He tried to capture them with his mouth, draw the siren's breaths into his own lungs and hold onto it for dear life. He left kisses and love bites all over the boy's shoulders and chest, wanting no one else to lay claim to what he'd rightfully stolen- no, freed.

And when Barry tipped over that edge, clenching tight and arching so much that it looked almost painful, he _glowed_. His eyes flickered a beautiful molten gold, his runes lighting up the entire room, and the shock of energy rolled Len right into his own orgasm.

And again, he couldn't help but compare Barry to a god with the way his skin retained that soft golden shimmer as he rode out the high. He looked like the sun itself, shining for a lover he rarely got to see, preening and glittering for all the world to see.

And he was all Len's.


End file.
